A tip, from one pro to another:
Never, ever, ever, no matter how cool you think it might look, throw alcohol on a fire.
I can’t believe I have to even say it. But here I am, 3:14am, a little tipsy, dirty, sore, and still smelling a bit like smoke, to clarify I did not start the fire, because unlike some people I now know, I know how to do spit roasting properly.
I have dealt with a lot of fires over the years. But all have been contained. Fire in a pit, good. Fire outside of pit, bad. Fire, tool for cooking food. Fire, hot, dangerous, don’t touch!
While most men have seemed to have mastered this gift from the heavens or gods, a few seem unable to grasp how to control such a powerful tool.
Thus, calling me, who isn’t even the restaurant’s manager or main chef, at one in the morning to help put out a fire.
A little backstory:
One of the places I supply for is called Gimme Galbi. I took the job because I liked the name. They cater mostly to college students and drunks. This is not an insult; they are good at pleasing their target audience. Though I am neither a college student nor a drunk, I myself enjoy the ability to get fast, fresh Korean food to go.
The very mission of the restaurant sounds like an oxymoron. At least the “fast” part. If you have followed any of my Korean recipes before, you know there is nothing “fast” about Korean cooking. There are too many steps and too much marinating and too many ingredients and too many minutes involved in the final production. Of course, this is one reason why the food turns out too delicious for most people to handle, but Gimme Galbi has perfected a way to prepare as much as possible beforehand while still making each meal taste like it took hours to prepare.
Then again, maybe it’s the alcohol that makes everything taste so good.
Alcohol certainly makes some things look good, too, and better than we previously thought. Alcohol makes terrible ideas sound like good ideas. Thus, the fire.
When I arrived at the scene, the fire wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was the kitchen staff and customers I was more concerned about. Because while it had sounded like a disaster and people were screaming and running around in panic when I got the call, the delight in excitement in everyone’s face was slightly concerning.
Picture: A barbeque pit, its flames barely visible but sometimes leaping up to lick the juicy meat sizzling above it, jumping up to try to capture another hiss and pop for its embers. Three men with loose ties and wobbly steps, soju bottles in their hands, eyes wide and watering from the smoke, gazing at the wonder before them, the whole world before them.
And then, man’s idea, man’s belief that he can make everything in nature better. The soju bottle, raised high, slightly tipping. The wordless agreement between the group, the collective decision. The tipping, the pouring, a drop, a rush of fluid pouring into the flame. The uproar, the explosion, the fire suddenly so powerful it could reach past the meat and to mankind itself! The screams! The pit overturned! The fire spilling out, starving to take in whatever it could. The meat, burnt and charred. Destroyed.
And then–a knight in shining armor. The savior of mankind. It is me, Seokjin, come to instruct the mere mortals on how to handle meat. An extinguisher, some water, some cloth, and the fire is smothered. The crisis is averted. The BBQ pits are banned from the restaurant, all cooking left up to the staff from now on.
But not before one last treat, one last gift imparted on the fools.
Their savior, instead of reprimanding and punishing, rights the wrongs. He screwers more meat and builds another fire and rotates when necessarily so that every side is done to perfection. No spot is left untouched, and soon, with sticky hands and dry throats, Seokjin presents his meat. The crowd is awed. There are tears. Men weep for joy. Some have to look away in shame. Others partake while cursing themselves.
And thus the night ends, with a dying fire as it began.
It’s a nice scene, isn’t it? I do have to say, it was much more chaotic than that. More screaming. More crying. But I came home hungry, and I decided to share my adventure with you. I leave you with a simple recipe today, but if you can learn anything from this post, it is these two things:
- No Korean recipes are simple, fast, or easy. Prepare to spend hours cooking for those you love. It is worth it
- Some things are better left to the professionals. That’s me. I’m the professional.
And, since we’re talking about Korean food, check out this recipe of meat and studs!
Recipe — Meat and spuds
Ingredients:
Meat
Potatoes
Sauce
Toppings
Instructions:
Don’t set anything on fire. It’s actually pretty simple.
Until then, this has been Seokjin, who’s too good for you.
Eat Seokjin 